


a dragon's treasure

by thecryoftheseagulls



Series: Logan Hawke [15]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Dragon Hawke (Dragon Age), First Meetings, M/M, Rescue, Wizard Anders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29931372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecryoftheseagulls/pseuds/thecryoftheseagulls
Summary: From a prompt for anon on tumblr:Logan Hawke the dragon has a new favourite treasure... a wizard.
Relationships: Anders/Hawke (Dragon Age), Anders/Male Hawke
Series: Logan Hawke [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/162287
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	a dragon's treasure

It’s not that Logan Hawke actually _wants_ to find a princess at the top of the tower, it’s just that princesses, or at the very least fine ladies, are generally the ones who get imprisoned in such a way. On account of the sexism, mostly, but also the wealth.

So when he arrives at the base of this newest tower (they’re just popping up out of the ground like crocuses in springtime these days, he might need to get Varric to look into that) and calls up the usual spiel of _hallo up there, would you like a rescue, ma’am_ , he is taken aback by the fireball lobbed down from the tower window. It hits him square in the chest and fizzles out harmlessly. Logan doesn’t even flinch.

“I’m not a damsel!” a deep voice shouts. A wizard with blond hair and a scraggly beard appears in the window, and leans out far enough that Logan begins to fear for his safety. He shakes a fist down at Logan. “And I have no riches, nor family to provide them, to reward you for your services, so you may as well be on your merry way!”

Logan cocks his head. “But you are being kept here against your will?” he shouts back.

The wizard crosses his arms over his chest and glowers down at him.

“Momentarily!”

Logan manifests his wings and leaps into the air, flapping his way up to the window. At this height, he can get a better feel for the magics woven into the tower’s stone -- dampening spells, meant to suppress magical ability, rather than the usual entrapment and warding spells he finds in these places. It’s a testament to the wizard’s magical ability that he was able to create a fireball at all under the weight of this magic, let alone cast it through the barrier and hit Logan down on the ground.

But, as ever, the magic woven into these towers has no effect on a dragon.

Logan grins, stretching his wings out to their full wingspan, as he hovers at eye level with the wizard and enjoys the shock on his face.

“Impressive bit of magic there with the fireball,” he says cheerfully. “Would you like a bit of assistance with your entrapment, or should I just wait around until you’ve freed yourself?”

The wizard wordlessly gestures at the air, where Logan can feel the wards extend a foot or two away from the stone. He swoops closer, landing lightly on his feet on the wrought iron rail with a hook on the end that extends from the bottom of the window frame -- standard install on these towers, mostly to taunt longhaired princesses and knights who carry rope. He feels the wards shiver over his skin. It feels like flying through a cloud: cold, but effortless.

“Well...” the wizard says, taking a step back when this brings Logan very, very close. He sounds a little breathless. Also, he has a very nice nose. Sharp. “I’d be a poor escape artist if I didn’t seize an opportunity when it presents itself.”

Logan cranes his neck to see around the wizard and into the tower itself. It’s a dismal sight: bare wood floors, a small cot, a desk with a few sparse sheets of parchment, and a single shelf with perhaps four books on it. No comforting touches at all. If Logan hadn’t believed the wizard when he said he had no wealth or family, he would now -- all the damsels’ towers are far nicer than this. To a dragon, especially, it looks barely habitable.

Logan takes a deep breath and feels smoke trickle out of his nostrils. 

“How can I be of assistance?” 

“Stay right there, I just have to…” the wizard spins on his heel and crosses the room to the cot, snatching a tiny embroidered pillow off the bed and clutching it to his chest. “All right, I’m ready.”

Logan looks him up and down, at the tattered clothes the wizard is wearing, and his apparent lack of any other belongings. He hops off the iron rail and does a roll mid-air, shifting to his full draconic form. His bright blue scales flash in the sun. He stretches one forearm in through the window and picks the wizard up carefully in his talons, placing him on his back between his neck and his cerulean wings.

“Sure that’s everything?” Logan asks, beating his wings to stay in place by the window. His voice is deeper in this, his true form, as deep as a rockfall in mountains. “My services also include optional setting-of-towers-on-fire.”

“No need,” the wizard says, letting go of Logan’s neck to fling a fireball into the room himself. The wards, of course, offer no resistance now that the wizard is on the outside of them.

“Nice,” Logan says, and turns away when the fire catches hold. All that wood in the room will burn hot and fast. “Hold tight, wizard.”

“My name is Anders,” the wizard huffs, gripping Logan’s scales with his knees and wrapping his hand around one of the spines on Logan’s neck.

“Logan Hawke,” Logan returns, soaring up above the cloud cover so that they’re out of sight of anyone on the ground who might come looking for an escaped wizard.

“Your family name is Hawk?” Anders asks, sounding baffled.

“Humans seem to like it when you have a second name. My father thought it was amusing,” Logan says, as he’s said to everyone who finds out he’s a dragon named after a bird.

“Hm,” Anders says. He falls silent for a while -- Logan assumes he is watching the clouds pass beneath them, and the farmland and forest far below that can be seen when they pass over a break in the clouds. Eventually, he asks, “And where are you taking me, Logan Hawke?”

Logan turns his head to fix one bright blue eye on the scrawny, powerful wizard shivering on his back. He hums, grey smoke drifting out his mouth and nostrils.

“Home with me, I think,” He can feel Anders tense on his back, grip turned tight on Logan’s spine. Logan faces forward again. “Get a good meal into you, maybe a bath, some new clothes. And then perhaps you can tell me something about these tower-builders before I let you wander off back into the world, treasure.”

Anders is slow to respond, and when he does, his voice is quiet enough that the wind nearly snatches it away. “All right, then,” he agrees.

Logan grins wide, and feels his flames lick at the back of his teeth.

It will be a few days before he realizes he's called the wizard his treasure so soon.

**Author's Note:**

> In celebration of Dragon Age 2's 10 year anniversary, here's a little mhanders fic for y'all <3
> 
> You can find me mostly on [twitter](https://twitter.com/cryofseagulls) these days, but I might pop on to [tumblr](https://thecryoftheseagulls.tumblr.com/) every so often for the mhanders.


End file.
